Delicate
by LionsandTigers
Summary: Wyatt Cain finds his situation with DG... delicate. Impossibly so. WIP. Disclaimer: Not mine, Never was, Never will be.
1. Two Little Princesses

Chapter 1: Two Little Princesses.

"Two little princesses,  
Dancing in a room,  
Spinning fast and freely on their little toes"…

Wyatt Cain twirled the Queen one final time as their dance together came to an end. The orchestra finished playing the final notes of the dance, and the harmonic melody was replaced by the thunderous applause of the guests. The Queen smiled kindly at the Tin Man, and curtsied gracefully. Cain, feeling very much out of place, bowed awkwardly in reply. He almost sighed with relief when he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around to find the King, ready and willing to excuse him from the dance floor.

As he made a bee-line through the crowd of dancing couples, his eyes sought out familiar faces- Glitch, nay, Ambrose, was dancing with a beautiful blonde girl Cain did not know. There was no denying that Ambrose was making up for lost time. Since there were no more glitching, now that his brain was zipped back in, newly appointed Head Advisor to the Queen was one of the most eligible bachelors in the O.Z., and he was fully enjoying his new status. 

Raw was not at the ball, finding the mass crowd overwhelming. The Viewer growled at the mention of the ball and stated plainly: "Raw not going. Too many emotions, feel too much". Cain laughed bitterly at the Viewer's words, remembering a time when he had uttered similar words himself. Feel too much, indeed.

Jeb was also absent, having been appointed General in her Majesty's service. He was now Commander of the Fourth Brigade, and his work often kept him away. The Northern Island was too far away from Central City, and the cautious young man refused to let the city remain unprotected. Cain admired his son for his loyalty and fierceness, and envied him for having an excuse to avoid these awful festivities.

Both Princesses, however, were nowhere to be found. Cain's steel eyes scanned to room desperately, trying to catch a glimpse of either sister, but to no avail. The sisters were not at the ball. Unconsciously, Cain sought out his gun. Although Azkadellia was a sensible young woman, now that the Witch no longer possessed her, she was a doting sister and could not deny her brazen sibling anything. And there was no denying that where DG was involved, trouble was almost certain to arise.

He quietly escaped to noise of the Grand Hall and was pursuing the long, empty corridors when the sound of pure, delighted laughter reached his ears. Cain visibly sagged with relief, recognising the voices only too well. Quietly, he stepped up to the door from which the voices came, and through the small crack in the doorway, peered into the fire-bathed room. The two princesses, giddy as little school-girls, were sitting on the floor, watching the blazing fire intently. Since their backs were to him, he could only see Azkadellia's hands gracefully moving, creating shapes and figures in the flames. First there was a blazing dragon, then a dancing gypsy and finally, her sister's young features.

Cain's breath caught in his throat, at the same time as DG's laughter rang across the room. There was no denying the elder sister's talent. The face that now shimmered in the flames was so similar to that of the younger princess that Cain could hardly bear to look at it. She was beautiful, even when shaped in flame.

But now it was DG's turn, and her face quickly disappeared as she fisted her delicate hand and seemingly crushed the flames. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she conjured a horse, a blazing horse with a shocking blue-and-purple mane. Azkadellia laughed in delight at the galloping stallion, before challenging her sister further. "Animals are easy", she said sotto-voce, "Faces, people, that's the real trick".

DG, always up for a challenge, crushed the image again, and set to work. Soft hand movements soon resulted in a somewhat inaccurate picture of Raw's face, and Cain almost snickered along with the older princess as she pointed out the imperfections of her sister's work. "You're too gentle, sister", Azkadellia remarked, "You've made him all soft angles. Do not let your heart influence reality. Draw him not for what you want to see, but for what he is". DG sighed in annoyance, but nonetheless she vanished the image and set to work on a new one.

It was somewhat unfair, Cain though to himself, that the older princess expected such precision from her younger sister. Azkadellia had been possessed by the Witch for over fifteen annuals, and despite all the bad things that came due to the Witch's reign, there was no denying that Azkadellia had a far richer experience with magic and its various forms. DG, on the other hand, spent those annuals on the Other Side, ignorant of her gift and unable to use it. His young friend was very powerful, but her magic was too untamed, too heart-felt. She needed to learn some patience and exactness, which Azkadellia already possessed in spades.

Cain was just about to interrupt their impromptu lesson and make his presence known when DG's image finally became clear. This time both he and Azkadellia gasped softly, shocked by what the flames revealed. Luckily, the princess's gasp covered for his lapse, and both princesses remained unaware of his presence.

The picture in the flames was his, and unlike Raw's, it was accurate to a fault. It was an exact, fiery reflection of the former Tin Man, down to his brooding expression. The fire even made sure his eyes shone with piercing blue flames, almost too bright to be natural. DG had obviously outdone herself.

"Oh, Deeg", he heard Azkadellia murmuring softly, and her hand clasped DG's free hand in support, lending her magic to help prolong the spell. "How I wish I could see someone so clearly in my mind. It's beautiful".

Cain, utterly unnerved by what he saw, quickly turned and hurried back to the ball. His only hope was that the noise of one thousand merry guests was enough to drown out his raging thoughts and emotions, which were threatening to erupt.

And because he ran away so very quickly, he was not present when DG allowed his picture to softly melt back into the fire, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. And he was not there to hear her soft reply to Azkadellia's praise. "No Az", she said, and her voice was barely above a whisper, "He is beautiful. Not my image, just him".

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A/N- I was planning for this to be a One-Shot, but as the words kept on flowing I kept thinking that this could be much more. I haven't decided where I am going with this, so you are very welcome to voice your opinions. Good? Bad? One-Shot? WIP? What should I do?

P/s – a Beta would be most appreciated, if there are any volunteers.


	2. If I Could Break the Spell

Chapter 2: If I Could Break the Spell

"If I could break the spell,  
I'd run to him today,  
And somehow I know he's on his way to me…  
He and I were meant to be,  
For longer than Forever…"  
-The Swan Princess, "For Longer than Forever"

Eight months were, apparently, enough in order to restore Central City to its prior glory. As he drew near, the man had to pull his hat down to shadow his eyes against the white brilliance of the renovated city. At the Central Gate, where once there were only long-coats to be found, now stood loyal friends. They cheered for him as he passed them by, recognising him as a former warrior for the Résistance, and the father of their beloved General. He had to pull his hat further down in order to conceal the blush that had flamed his cheeks. Fame did not sit well with Wyatt Cain.

The streets were practically humming with movement and trade. All around him he could smell fresh herbs, and perfumes, and bread. Even the smell of the fish market was a welcome scent. Above all, he relished the aroma of life that had returned to the City. People were everywhere, creating a sea of colour and movement which sent warmth coursing through his tired body. Here was a sight worth fighting for, no doubt about it.

As he made his way through the crowded streets, his ears tried to capture every little bit of gossip that was being traded more quickly than any other merchandise. Apparently the latest buzz had to do with the Royal Family. The Queen and both Princesses were rumoured to be in Central City, preparing to hold court again within its white walls. Cain, naturally, was already aware of this, and knew the rumour to be true. His reason for travelling to the City after his long absence had been to be present on the night of the Grand Ball that would announce the return of the Royal Family to the City and to its Grand Court.

When the King first came up with the idea of relieving Cain of his military duties, the Tin Man had been furious. He had fought bitterly against the stern King, trying to make him see, to make him understand, that his place was with his soldiers, with his son, on the battlefield. But Ahamo, having made up his mind, refused to listen.

"You are a friend more than you are a soldier, Cain", the King had explained. "My wife and my two girls are powerful in their own right, but our greatest Generals are here, fighting a guerrilla war against the former long-coats. We have fought for long enough and though it does not seem so, we have gained our small share of victories. Surely an experienced commander such as yourself can see that?" Cain had to, grudgingly, agree.

"The time has come for me to turn my thoughts to my family again, and I confess- I fear for their safety. I have taken too many when I set out to destroy the remains of the Witch's army. Now I must send the best men I have back, to Central City and to my family and people, so that I know they are safe and well protected. Therefore, whether you like it or not, I am sending you. You are hereby stationed, by Royal Decree, to serve under the Queen at the Grand Court in Central City. Do you understand what I am saying, Commander Cain?"

And Cain had understood perfectly.

Now, as he entered the Court, the words that the King had not used filled his mind. 'Old', 'tired', 'soft' and 'broken' all came to mind. They were sending him away because they thought he couldn't take the heat anymore. And what frightened him the most was that deep down, where not even Raw could reach, he agreed with them. The time he spent being locked away from the world had changed him, losing Jeb and Adora had changed him, reuniting with Jeb had changed him, even DG, silly little DG, had changed him.

His blood thirst had been sated long ago, and though he was still a man of the law in every sense of the word, he had never been a man of war. And so, with a heavy heart, Commander Cain packed his bags and set off, back to Central City, back to his Princess's side, which he had promised not to leave.

His promise to the Mystic Man haunted him during his time away from her, and he often heard the old man's voice in his dreams. Like the King, he too thought long and hard about the dangers facing the Royal Family and his promise to protect DG at all costs allowed him no rest. What sort of man was he, to leave her to fend for herself while he ran off to play 'War' with his son and the King?

There were nights he was almost ready to saddle his horse and return to her side, and on each of these nights he reminded himself that she had magic on her side, and good people around her. What could he, broken man that he was, offer her as protection? What was his gun, when compared to her magic? Unintentionally, his thoughts would then stray to the last time he saw her- when he had caught a glimpse of her sister and her seated in front of the fire, creating images out of flames. She had created his image, drawn his face so accurately that it hurt… in the heart he had once told her had nothing to do with it, it hurt.

Cain gritted his teeth and exhaled slowly, allowing the tension to melt away. There was little use in dwelling on what has passed. He was here now; ready to resume his role as her defender. Whether the Mystic Man considered his vow broken or fulfilled mattered little, since the man was now dead. All that mattered was that she had managed to stay unharmed during his absence.

"State your business", the guard at the door to the Royal Family's study declared as Cain approached.

"I seek audience with the Royal Family, they are expecting me", Cain replied coolly, immediately disliking the guard's air of arrogance.

The guard seemed to suddenly recognise him, for the air of arrogance was replaced instantly by a more conciliatory tone. "Pardon me, Commander Cain, sir, I didn't recognise you", Cain almost snorted at that. "Of course you are expected, sir, but the only member of the family in the Court right now is Princess DG, sir. If you would like to go freshen up, sir, I wouldn't mind delivering a message to the Queen and Princess Azkadellia on your behalf".

Cain raised his hand in a wordless command for silence. "I will see the Princess immediately; your help is welcome, but unnecessary. Now, open the door, and let me through". The guard almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to unlock the door, and Cain found he had to pull his hat down yet again, this time in order to conceal his bemused smirk. When the guard finally managed to open the door for him, he offered the young man a small salute, and entered.

The family's private study was, in fact, a magnificently furnished library, made of dark wood. But the most beautiful aspect of the room was a wall of full-length windows, facing the west. The view would have once held the Tower of the Witch, had it not been the first thing the Queen had chosen to destroy. Glitch's marbles was the only thing the Queen had saved from that cursed place.

Cain crossed the room to stand closer to the windows and the magnificent view they offered. The West was first to fall when the Witch first came to power. Under her reign the great forests of the West withered and died, until some thought that the West will become nothing more than a wasteland. Now, barely nine months since the Witch melted away, and with the aid of a little spark of magic, the forests were already growing green and strong. True, it would take many years before the West was restored completely, but the sight of its rebirth was a merry one.

"I find it amazing, how something which appeared almost dead has come alive so quickly. Don't you agree, Commander Cain?" The voice that penetrated his thoughts was eerily familiar, but the accent was completely foreign. Cain quickly turned around, wondering how on earth he hadn't noticed her upon entering, and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

The DG in his memories wore baggy trousers and a leather jacket. The DG in his memories stared at him with wide, innocent blue eyes. The DG in his memories slouched, and dangled her arms, and had hair in her face all the time. There was no way that the woman standing before him was the same DG, even if they looked exactly the same.

She wore a dress, for a start; a dark blue dress that hugged her figure and created curves where none used to exist. Her hair was much longer, and straight, and she had it pulled backwards from her face. Though her facial features remained the same, and thankfully devoid of any cosmetics, her blue eyes seemed to have lost their wide-eyed expression he had treasured. And then there was the air around her- her elegant posture, the way she seemed to carry herself with poise and effortless grace. Her entire presence bespoke of refinement and control.

Once again, Cain's unruly thoughts conjured memories of the last night he saw her. Back then, he thought that she had to learn what her sister had already mastered- how to be a Princess. But now, faced with the 'New-And-Improved' model, a part of him was screaming that he wanted the old one back.

"Are you going to offer some sort of reply, or has the cat got your tongue?" Once again, Cain was struck by how her accent had changed. Upon receiving no reply from him, the new DG-model closed the space between them, and finally came to stand at arms-length from him. His breath hitched slightly at her nearness. New model or not, it was still DG, and she had that power over him whether she wore a leather jacket or a silk dress.

"Hey there, stranger", she said, her voice suddenly shy and uncertain. And that glimpse, that little sign of the old DG was all that was necessary to put the Tin Man at ease. He gathered her into his arms, ignoring the fact that she was dressed in finery and that he was full of dirt from the road. He embraced her tightly, almost crushing her, and rejoiced when he felt her return his embrace with all the power she had in her small frame.

Unable to hide his relief, he lifted her up into the air and spun her in circles, delighting in her uncontrolled laughter. And when he finally placed her back on the ground, neither was in a hurry to let the other go. They stood there for a while, her head tucked under his chin, taking comfort in each other's warmth.

Finally coming to his senses, Cain cleared his throat awkwardly, released his hold on her hips and distanced himself from her body. His actions seemed to startle her at first, but then she seemed to collect herself and seemingly transform before his eyes into the polite stranger she had become.

Uncomfortable silence fell over them, and when she finally decided to break it, he was struck by the coldness in her voice. "The Queen will be delighted to hear of your return, Commander Cain. She and Princess Azkadellia are currently away, preparing for the Ball. I am sorry they are not here to welcome you, but we had no notice. I am sure they will ask you to dine with us, upon hearing of your arrival".

Cain frowned in confusion, wondering which of his questions should be first. What was the deal with the formal titles? Since when had 'Mom' become 'the Queen', and 'Az' had become 'Princess Azkadellia'? Why the cold shoulder? Why the formal address, as if she were talking to a politician, rather than a friend? Where was the girl who had embraced him so warmly only a few moments ago?

Before he could decide which question to ask first, DG curtsied gracefully and excused herself from his presence. "Wait!" he shouted to her retreating form, finally finding his voice. "Kiddo, just wait one second! What's all this? Why is your mother suddenly 'the Queen', and since when am I 'Commander Cain'? Is this the welcoming I get after being away for so long?"

He could see her back tensing, and by the harsh look she shot him from over her shoulder he realised he had just said the wrong thing.

"I am not a child", she said, and her voice held none of the innocence it once expressed. "I am your Princess, and you will address me as such. You have done your land a great service, Commander Cain, and as a member of the Royal Family I thank you for your dedication and loyalty. But do not expect me, as a friend, to welcome you with open arms. You abandoned me, Commander Cain. You left me alone. You forced…" Her voice cracked, and she turned her head from him, showing him nothing except for her rigid back.

"You forced formality into our relationship, Commander. I hope you choke on it", and with that, she was gone.

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A/N- This story combines angst and romance. For the next few chapters the angst will be more pronounced. But believe me- romance shall have its moments.


	3. My Empire of Dirt, Part 1

Chapter 3: My Empire of Dirt. Part 1

"I hurt myself today,  
To see if I still feel.  
I focus on the pain-  
The only thing that's real…

What have I become,  
My sweetest friend?  
Everyone I know goes away,  
In the end.  
And you could have it all,  
My empire of dirt.  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt…"  
-Johnny Cash, "Hurt".

The Queen's private chambers at the Grand Court were lavish and elegant. The crème coloured walls and crimson tapestries were a stark contrast to the Mystic Man's rooms at the Court, which Cain remembered from his time as a Tin Man. His had been a mixture of clean white walls and luxurious green carpets, stretching from wall to wall. Cain made a mental note to ask the servants to prepare those rooms. He had been fond of the humbleness those plain chambers held, and if the Queen meant to keep him as a guest at the Court, he was determined to stay in them. Unlike his three current companions, there was no royal blood running in his veins. The Mystic Man's chambers were honour enough for the former Tin Man.

Having made up his mind, Cain allowed himself to refocus on his surroundings. He was seated across from the Queen, the only thing separating them being a beautiful ivory coffee table. Cain's cup of coffee had remained untouched on the table, and was probably cold by now. The Queen was nursing her own cup between her delicate, well-shaped hands, but her attention remained elsewhere.

Cain followed the Queen's gaze to her two daughters. The Queen, he had noticed, seemed to keep the two princesses in sight at all times. She seemed frightened, as if a part of her believed that they might somehow vanish into thin air if she wouldn't guard them with her warm lavender gaze. Cain understood how she felt. The last time the two sisters had strayed too far, Azkadellia had been possessed by the Witch and DG eventually paid for it in blood. A shudder went through Cain as his mind replayed the memories Raw had revealed to them in the mirror, and he pushed them forcefully away. The image of DG's body, lifeless and cold on the bed, was food for his worse nightmares. And he had had enough of those, these past few months.

The princess in question, however, seemed blissfully unaware of the two grown-ups' fears and insecurities. She was seated on a piano bench next to her older sister, attempting valiantly to play along with the far more accomplished princess. Even Cain, who's knowledge of music was rather limited, could see Azkadellia had greater flair and finer skills. Although DG kept a steady and accurate tune, it was Azkadellia's fingers that produced the beautiful harmony, which filled the room. Cain forced himself not to laugh. It seemed DG was already cross with him, there was no need for him to further arouse her anger by mocking her musical skills. Besides, she was doing extremely well for a novice.

As if she had been reading his mind, the Queen's words seemed to echo his thoughts. "DG has made much progress, has she not? I think you would find her much changed, Commander". Although her words implied no double meaning, her slight smile seemed to hint that there was more to the question than a mere polite inquiry.

"Yes, Highness", Cain hurriedly replied, avoiding her curious eyes. "I am sure the princess has made much progress in my absence". He conveniently chose to keep their little reunion to himself. The Queen needn't know of DG's odd behaviour. In fact, he was determined to keep their meeting a secret.

"Funny you should mention your long absence, Commander", the Queen seemed quick to use his words against him, and Cain began feeling as if he was being led into a trap. "I would expect DG to be thrilled by your return, after being separated from her three friends for so long. And yet, she seems very much composed and cool about the whole affair".

"Are you saying you do not approve of the princess's calm welcoming? It is what I would expect from a royal princess", Cain hoped to whatever deity that was currently listening that this was the correct answer to give the Queen. He was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading towards, and was trying helplessly to escape unscathed.

"A princess, yes", the Queen halted, and her eyes momentarily slipped back to her youngest daughter. "But we both know that DG is much more". Cain found himself as nervous as a child, caught in a lie. The Queen was the most powerful being in the OZ, now that peace had been restored, and she was undeniably clever. Which left Cain with the terrible question- how much did she know, and how much was she guessing?

His lack of response seemed to spur the Queen forward. "What I mean to ask, Commander, and pardon my bluntness, is why my DG seems so upset with you?" Although the question was spoken softly, Cain wasn't fool enough to miss the steel behind the words. This was a threat, no matter how softly it was uttered. _Hurt her_, it said, _and you shall answer to me_.

Cain straightened in his seat, and for the first time in their conversation, his piercing blue eyes met her lavender orbs and locked with them in silent battle. He was a warrior, a Tin Man, a man of honour; a good man. He had nothing to hide, nothing shameful to confess. He had done no wrong, and he would not apologize for a sin he did not commit.

"Highness, I will not try to deny that the princess has expressed her… displeasure with me. I rather formed to notion she believes I abandoned her when I went away to fulfil my obligations to my country. I assure you, I have been nothing but kind towards her, and I do intend to sort things out as quickly as possible".

The Queen gave in, refusing the challenge his blue eyes declared. Her eyes strayed to her daughters. "Has anyone ever called you an optimist before, Mr. Cain?" she pondered, and her voice was a mere whisper.

"No, Highness, not even when I was a mere child", Cain answered with a slight chuckle, recalling a time when Glitch tried to scold him for being a dry cynic. The Queen, however, did not appear to share the joke.

"You must be", she said after a long pause, "If you believe my daughter would be won over so easily. I fear that both of us have made grave mistakes with my angel. I, in keeping her locked inside the Palace, away from her friends. And you, Mr. Cain", her lavender eyes were once again focused on him, and never had the Queen's gaze scorched him so. "You made the mistake of thinking her strong enough. I fear that we did not see the wound she was nursing, and that the pain it caused her will make her stubborn now. She will not want to listen to those who left her to fight alone when she needed them the most".

Cain's eyes shot back to DG, as if expecting to see the hidden wound the Queen had talked about. His mind conjured terrifying images of DG, silly little DG, lying in her bed, bleeding heavily and crying out to him. Could it be? Had she cried for him in her sleep? Had he been too far away to hear? But all he could see was the wall of calmness that surrounded her- a shield of coolness, of detachment, that separated her from the world. And, in the back of his mind, he knew he had a new image for his nightmares. And he dreaded what sleep may bring him tonight.

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A/N – yes, I know, it was short. Don't shoot me. Don't shoot anything at all, as a matter of fact. This is only Part 1 of a longer chapter, and Part 2 will hold more interaction between DG and Cain. Thank you all for the amazing support you have been showing. You give me the energy to go on with the story.


	4. My Empire of Dirt, Part 2

My Empire of Dirt, Part 2:

Sleep, much like Cain had predicted, refused to come. Buried deep in the plush, heavy blankets of his soft bed and surrounded by high walls, he felt rather claustrophobic. Which, considering his many years of imprisonment in a tin box, was ridiculous. He had spent the last three hours tossing and turning, trying to make his back yield to the soft mattress. But his rigid back refused to welcome to luxury, and the frustrated Tin Man found himself dragging the blankets down to the floor, hoping sleep might find him more easily down there.

Relaxed at last, Cain tried to listen to the night's noises. After nights of bloodshed, it was often the little noises of nocturnal activity that helped him fall asleep. But in the Grand Court he found only silence, nothing seemed to move about. No wind to rustle the leaves, no tiny insects buzzing busily around him. Silence terrified him. It was too much like being back in his tin box, believing he would die in it, alone and forgotten.

With a grunt, Cain tossed the blankets away and rose to his feet. The cold air of the room immediately assaulted him, but he refused to cover himself up. Dressed only in a pair of loose fitting trousers, the former Tin Man padded barefoot to the door of his living quarters. Reluctant to leave his rooms without some kind of protection, he put on his belt and tucked in his pistol. He was well aware that his appearance was less than appropriate, but it was past two in the morning, and he was just too tired to care.

The halls of the Grand Court were eerily quiet. Cain expected to meet guards on his way, but none appeared to be patrolling. The only faces he could find were those of the stone gargoyles, which were placed on either side of the tall arches decorating the corridors. Finding no better sport, he counted all forty-four of them on his way to the kitchens. He absent-mindedly noted that all of them were frozen in different positions, though their stone eyes seemed to follow his progress.

The large oak door to the kitchens was left slightly open, and a soft beam of light shone from inside. Apparently, someone had the same idea as he did, and came down to look for a hot cup of tea. Cain halted for a brief moment, wondering whether to disturb the person inside. Then, deciding he was just as deserving of a good drink, Cain shook himself mentally and quietly slipped inside.

Only to find himself being closely observed by a pair of tired blue eyes, which regarded him with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Cain's breath caught in his chest as he found himself staring at DG, dressed in a long, grey T-shirt that came down to her knees and read: "Ban the Bomb, Keep the Peace". Her dark hair was wet, and stuck to her face, her whole appearance was disheveled, and the T-shirt was nothing more than a baggy sack but Cain couldn't help but think that she was absolutely beautiful.

He tried to find words, tried to explain things to her, tried not to be horrified by what she might think of him. How she would surely believe that he was stalking her, following her around, trying to get her alone…

"Did you come for a nightcap?" she posed her question quietly, and he couldn't help but hear how tired she sounded, how broken. He nodded wordlessly, and his blue eyes followed her as she gracefully pulled a large mug out of a cabinet and poured a generous amount of some unknown liquid into it from the kettle resting by her side.

When she approached and offered the mug to him, he tried valiantly to ignore the warm feeling he got in his stomach when his fingers brushed lightly across hers. His eyes quickly sought hers, but her own eyes were cast to the floor, obviously avoiding his gaze.

He took a step back from her, finding her nearness almost overwhelming. Since he could find nothing else to do, he quickly took a large sip from his drink, and tried not to wince as the hot liquid burnt his mouth. Then, he tried not to let his surprise show when he realized he was drinking hot apple cider, generously spiced with brandy. He took another sip, this time slowly, and let the warmth embrace him.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he found DG staring in the general area of his left hip. The Tin Man frowned in confusion, wondering what it was that drew her attention, before realizing that his pistol was holstered there. He sighed heavily, which drew her attention back to his face. Then, obviously embarrassed, she returned her gaze to the floor.

Cain sighed again, this time trying to control his frustration. He seated himself on a low stool close to the large fireplace. The fire had burnt out hours ago, but the ambers were still emanating heat and he needed all the heat he could find when faced with her cool regard.

"I got sucked into this stupid world", she surprised him by saying, and he was grateful to hear her sounding like herself, at long last. "I didn't ask for it", she clarified, as if he could forget. "I was happy planning a trip to Australia; I didn't need the O.Z…" Cain raised his blue eyes from the hot coals to find her pacing restlessly back and forth.

"They took away my house, my parents, everything I knew, but I thought… I thought it was OK, you know? I thought I found friends; I had a mother here who wanted me to find her… I though at least I wasn't alone…"

The need to embrace her gripped him with a fierceness he could not explain. It was a well-known need, one that had pestered him since that day, so many months ago, when she told him defiantly that she will find her way to the Main Road with or without him.

Too late, Cain realized that his DG, for he could not stop himself from claiming her as his in his mind, was rather drunk. Not too much, not enough to make a fool out of herself, just a miserable drunk, like so many he had seen during his days as a Tin Man. And somewhere, his heart found the strength to break a bit further, to hurt a little more, and he tried to find the courage to reach for her, to grasp her, but he was paralyzed completely, unable to move from his seat.

"I saved the day, didn't I? I did everything, every single dirty task… and when you all got what you wanted… when the witch was gone and happily ever after came you all bailed. You took off…" Her voice cracked, and Cain could see the red in her eyes, the tears she was holding back by sheer willpower.

"You took off, and you left me alone. You shut me in a palace of ice, as if that was what I deserved, as if that was all I was worth. A silly little princess, fit only to stay behind while the men were off fighting. Silly little DG, why should we even bother?"

Suddenly, he knew he could take no more. He saw clearly that she was only seconds away from breaking, from crying, from crashing down and he knew he could not stand it, could not bear to see it and do nothing.

"Damn it, DG!" he roared, and he did not mind in the slightest to see how his voice shook her. "If you were so miserable, why didn't you just get up and leave? As if anyone could stop you, you stupid girl! Why didn't you just pack your bags, and go?!"

He hadn't even realized he had risen from his seat until he was right in front of her, his strong hands clasped tightly around her biceps, shaking her unresisting form with a force which was bound to leave bruises.

"I had a sister, Mr. Cain", she spitted back, and her blue eyes burnt with an accusation he was afraid to face. "A sister who has been to hell and back and I gave her my word. I promised her, when it was just the two of us up on that tower, I promised her I wouldn't let go this time. I gave her my word that this time I would be stronger, that I would hold on to her and never leave her alone in the dark. So I was strong, and I stayed. I kept my promise, and I was strong for her, even when I wasn't strong enough for myself".

The promise he had made to the Mystic Man suddenly began to pound in his ears, so loud that it drowned out even the sound of DG's harsh words. He had promised, he had promised… he gave his word that he would keep her safe… that she would come to no harm…

The pain in his chest crushed him down, and he couldn't breathe, couldn't see straight. He let go of DG, practically thrust her away, suddenly unable to deal with her, unable to face her accusations. Because she was right, he had left her. He had abandoned her when she needed him, and went away because he believed he knew what was best for her. He had forced an innocent child to grow up, to mature so quickly and he couldn't help loving her even more for it. And he was a sick man, a very sick man, if the sight of this broken girl only made him want her more. Because he wanted her, had wanted her for so long, and he went away because he knew she could never be his. He shouldn't have, he should never have left, he had promised… and he had failed the Mystic Man. Even worse, he had failed her.

He bolted out, out of the kitchen, running through the empty corridors, ignoring the curious gaze of the watchful gargoyles. Faster he ran, out of the building and into the gardens, into the noise of the leaves and the insects and still he couldn't stop running.

He stumbled on a rock blindly, and fell heavily to the ground, and waited for the world to stop spinning.

And when the world finally ceased to run, when his thoughts finally caught up with him, the man who once swore his heart had nothing to do with it felt the same heart shatter and embraced the unbearable pain. But he refused to cry, refused to let the pain out. If she was strong enough to bear so much pain, to be so broken, surely he could start his atonement by doing the same.

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A/N Wow. Unbelievable. It has been over a year since I last updated. Jeez. I'm ashamed to admit real life took me for a ride and refused to let me go up until very recently. I am, however, determined to complete this piece and have begun doing so as you can clearly see. Thank you so much for the wonderful comments and great support that you have showed this story, and I hope the updates will start coming in very very soon.


	5. You're Beautiful

Chapter 3: You're Beautiful:

"You're beautiful,  
You're beautiful,  
You're beautiful, it's true.  
I saw your face in a crowded place,  
and I don't know what to do,  
'Cause I'll never be with you."

-"You're Beautiful", James Blunt.

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He tried not to think of the last time he had been present at such a fancy event. Everywhere he turned there were noblemen to be found, officers in their dashing uniforms and beautiful ladies dressed in their finest. And in the midst of it all was the Royal Family, all four of them in attendance and dressed in regal white.

After their late-night confrontation, an unspoken truce was declared between DG and he. They did not speak to each other, nor were they openly hostile. Whenever she absolutely could not avoid speaking with him, she addressed him kindly and shortly, as if explaining a trivial matter to a dumb boy.

It drove him berserk, but he dared not comment out of fear. Fear of evoking her anger, of reentering that dark place she had shown him on that night. If the Queen had any sort of opinion on the state of things, she kept it strictly to herself. But she did try to make the Tin Man as comfortable as she could while he stayed with her family. He tried feeling grateful, but the Grand Court was too much of a prison for his liking, especially when he was the guard charged with keeping everyone inside.

He was slowly going mad; he could see it in the mirror every morning. The shadows under his eyes were getting more pronounced after each night of restless nightmares. He was losing weight, since there was hardly any physical activity in being the personal bodyguard of the Royal Family. The Queen had tried to persuade him to lose the hat and duster, but he pointedly refused. She was rather amused, probably choosing to believe that he was trying to cling to his glory days. Little did she know that the Fedora helped conceal his tired features and the duster covered his wasting frame.

But tonight, the night of the Ball, Cain had no excuse to avoid the Queen's dress code. So he stood stiffly, back pressed against the wall of the ballroom floor, feeling utterly ridiculous in his black tuxedo and wishing he was anywhere but here.

Earlier in the night, trumpets had announced the arrival of the King, and with him, Cain was happy to see, Jeb. From across the room, he nodded to his son, who was immediately ambushed by some of the younger ladies in the crowd. His son had become quite the catch, apparently. Now Cain watched as his son bowed deeply to Azkadellia, before sweeping her into a waltz. Cain watched them closely, noting how young they looked together; as if she had never been possessed by the witch, as if he had not been forced to sacrifice his childhood to war.

Thoughts about being forced to grow up prematurely brought forth more thoughts about DG, and Cain scanned the room, looking for her petite figure. He finally found her in the arms of her father, dancing closely and speaking into Ahamo's ear. She was a vision, dressed entirely in pristine white, seemingly the very image of the young, innocent princess. Cain greedily drank in her appearance, how her skin seemed to glow, how graceful she looked while dancing, how her long hair hung loose in luscious waves…

He was not the only one to note how beautiful DG looked. Many young men were following the princess's every move, obviously liking what their eyes were seeing. Cain couldn't help the small growl that escaped him when one of the officers dared to step up and tap the King on the shoulder, politely requesting to have the next dance. Cain was pleased to see that neither DG nor Ahamo seemed to welcome the interruption, but nonetheless the King took a step back and allowed the insignificant whelp to take his place.

When the dance ended, another young man, this time a nobleman from the North, replaced the officer. Another man followed him, and another, and yet another. There seemed to be a cue of young men, all vying for DG's attention. Cain watched all of them closely, happily noting that DG was acting quite distant, thought not too inattentive as to appear rude.

Cain's attention was distracted from the young princess when he realized her older sister was making a bee-line towards him, looking quite determined. Having vowed to remain a flower wall for the night, Cain had an uneasy feeling he was not going to like Azkadellia's request.

"Will you dance with me?" The older princess asked timidly, before giving a demure curtsy. All around them people were turning to watch them, clearly wishing to see what his reply might be. Cain tried to think of a polite way to refuse when he heard DG's laughter ring from the dance floor. His eyes quickly found her, currently in the arms of his own flesh and blood, laughing freely and clearly enjoying herself.

Something ugly twisted in his gut, and Cain briefly wondered whether it was possible to be envious of his own son. Then, much to the surprise of their crowd, Cain bowed formally to Azkadellia and took her in his arms, leading her confidently unto the dance floor.

It was a comfortable, formal waltz, and Cain found himself falling easily into the well-known dance. Azkadellia was as accomplished at dancing as she was in everything else she did, but Cain was happy to see she was feeling at ease in his arms. He had spent many hours with the princess during his stay in the Grand Court, and much like her sister, Azkadellia too had a mask which she wore whenever she felt uncomfortable in her own skin. Unlike DG, Azkadellia wore her mask to hide her insecurities- her own personal feeling of unworthiness. DG, on the other hand, wore her mask to conceal her rage, and her pain. Azkadellia had managed to heal, thanks to her devoted family, while DG remained broken.

"I would offer payment for your thoughts, if I thought you would accept", Azkadellia remarked, but her gaze followed his and Cain knew that though she could not guess his exact thoughts, the princess nonetheless had a very good idea.

The Tin Man offered only a tight smile in reply, but did not speak. His reaction seemed to amuse the older princess, because she tossed her head back and laughed. Then, coming back to her senses, she quickly composed herself and tightened her hold on his shoulder.

"Don't be offended, please", she begged him, but the smile was not gone from her eyes and Cain could see that she meant to tease him further. "Your thoughts are with my sister, mine are with your son. You see? Both of us are thinking in the same direction".

Cain knew he was letting his surprise show. In fact, he was downright certain that his mouth, which was hanging open, was a dead giveaway. But not in a million years would he have guessed, would he have imagined, that Azkadellia harbored feelings for Jeb. Azkadellia tried to control her laughter, clearly amused by seeing the cool, calculated Tin Man so obviously flustered.

"My son?" Cain finally managed, almost choking on his own tongue. "But… you- you're a princess. And he is just… I mean…" Cain felt as though someone had just drenched him in ice cold water. His jealousy over seeing his son dancing with DG seemed practically infantile, in light of Azkadellia's confession. Surely, now that he could consider the matter objectively, the two did not look any more amorous than he and the princess were currently looking. Friendly, yes; perhaps even close, but certainly not amorous.

"Jeb is a wonderful man", Azkadellia admitted quietly, and this time it was Cain who followed her gaze back to the other couple, who seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that they were being carefully watched. "Any woman, and certainly a princess, would be fortunate to have such a strong man at her side. Even more so if that woman was to be the Queen of the O.Z. someday".

Cain's eyes snapped back to Azkadellia's face, seeking any sign that the princess was joking. He had assumed, he had been so certain, that Azkadellia would shy away from the throne, refusing to take what she once usurped from her own mother. He had been sure that DG would have to step up and become Queen; another sacrifice she would be willing to make for the sake of her sister's well-being.

"I have made my peace, Tin Man", Azkadellia clarified, and there was steel under the velvet of her voice. "I will not be a burden to my sister. I will not ask of her to give up all that she loves, to relinquish her freedom, because of my own, silly guilt". Cain cast his eyes to the floor, ashamed of his actions. He had been too quick to judge, and he was not proud of it.

"I will be Queen of the O.Z., when my mother wishes to step down. I will take the throne, and I will not feel guilty for it has always been my birthright". There was a fire in the princess's brown eyes, and Cain couldn't help but smile encouragingly, happy to see how strong the girl had become.

Azkadellia leaned forward, until her mouth was almost pressed to his ear. Her whispered words caught him off guard. "My father was no nobleman on the Other Side, Wyatt Cain. My mother chose him, not because of his rank or his money or his lands. She chose him because she loved him. Did you really think, were you that big of a fool, to think DG would not follow her heart? Trust me, DG will always follow her heart; and the man she marries will not be what you think she deserves, it will be the one who has her heart."

Cain stopped mid-stride, struck dumb by the princess's words. Before he could regain his composure, he felt someone tap his shoulder. He turned around to see Jeb, looking handsome and happy and young, and he realized that his son probably wanted to take his place. Awkwardly, Cain released the princess and stepped back to allow Jeb to take the princess into his arms. He ignored their worried expressions, gave a stiff bow, and hurried to escape the dancing crowd.

When he finally returned to his previous spot, and forced his back to relax against the wall, Cain immediately sought DG out. He found her, alone for the first time in hours, standing much like him with her back to the opposite wall, her eyes scanning the room.

Her blue eyes found his, and for the first time in weeks he did not look away. Instead, he held her gaze steadily, mentally begging her to see into him, to understand. For the first time since the night in the kitchens, it was she who cast her eyes to the floor, severing their connection. But Cain thought he saw a shadow of a smile grace her beautiful lips. Not a real smile, not a full-blown, toothy DG smile, but it was a start.

His stomach growled, announcing it was hungry for the first time in weeks. Hopeful, Cain went to look for dinner.

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A/N: Good? Bad? Right direction? Wrong Direction? Make your opinion known!


	6. Every Time You Come Around, Part 1

Chapter 5: Every Time You Come Around, Part 1

"Come sail your ships around me,  
And burn your bridges down.  
We make a little history, baby,  
Every time you come around.  
Come loose your dogs upon me,  
And let your hair hang down,  
You're a little mystery to me,  
Every time you come around".  
-"The Ship Song", Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

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It is an old, sad, half-forgotten dream. In it are the fields he grew up in, stretching endlessly- a golden blanket of wheat as far as the eye can see. He runs through the fields, for what seems like many years. He never trips over any stones, never gets tired, and never meets farmers or animals on his way. Eventually the fields end, as they always did in his dream, and he can see, on the edge of the forest, the house he had built for Adora. A simple, wood cabin, not the palace he thought she deserved, but what she wanted. "Take me to the edge of the forest", she used to sing to him, and he could never refuse her. So he built them a house, and he took her to it. She gave birth to their son, their golden boy, between its' walls. He had been happy there, for a while.

He could always see the two of them, his wife and his little boy, waiting for him as he ran towards them. They always stood together, golden and cherished and loved, waving at him, smiling happily for him. He would always pick up speed; always try to run faster, hoping that maybe if he'd be quick enough, maybe if he'd reach them sooner, they wouldn't disappear. He had run to them countless times, but whenever he reached the old cabin he found it in ruins, the graves of his loved ones the only things left standing.

But tonight is different. Tonight he halts as soon as he sees them, refusing to let go of their image. He drinks in the sight of them, his beautiful wife, and his precious son, both so happy to see him. When they wave at him, beckoning him to come to them, he shakes his head sadly. He understands, inwardly, that they are beyond his reach. That this life is not his any longer, having been shattered many years ago. They ask him to join them, but he cannot. That lifetime had ended, but he is still alive. He cannot rest yet.

But when he turns his back to them, prepared to make the long journey back, he hears an anguished female cry. Despite the pain in his chest, he doesn't turn back, because he cannot bear to let them go a second time. Instead he begins to walk, slowly but never faltering, seeking his way back from the land of dreams and death and mists, back to the land of the living.

He can hear feet, running behind him, but he knows it cannot be. But soon he can hear labored breathing, and the sound of someone running with all their might, trying to catch up with him. When he turns around, still scared of what he might find, it is not Adora, or even Jeb that are running towards him. It's DG, beautiful DG, with her face red from the exercise and from the tears that she is crying. She stumbles into his arms blindly, throwing all her weight against his bigger frame, knowing he would always catch her. He holds her softly, tenderly, cherishing the feel of her in his arms.

He wakes up suddenly, instinctively knowing that something has summoned him back from his sleep. Something has called out for him, brought him back. He can hear the sound of a pair of feet, trying unsuccessfully to remain undetected, as they glide away from the door to his chambers. He rushes out of his bed, knowing that this time he has to be fast enough.

The door makes a creaking sound, then a large bang as he thrusts it open with savage force. The figure at the edge of the corridor stops, and turns around, clearly surprised. He drinks in her face, her unguarded eyes, and her untamed hair. For the first time in his life he can feel magic, thrumming in his veins, making everything brighter even in the darkness of the night.

"I came back for you", he tells her, meaning it in every possible way. He started feeling again, for her. He survived the frozen waters, for her. He turned his back on war, for her. He left the wood cabin behind, for her. "It took me too long, and I'm sorry kiddo. I'm so, so sorry. But you know, even if you don't want to know it. You know I came back for you".

She doesn't reply, but he wasn't expecting her to. She looks at him, and he can see the magic in her, the light that makes everything brighter. He can feel a caress, though he knows no one is touching him, and he knows it's her magic, calling out to him.

She nods; a little movement of her head, the only acknowledgement she is willing to offer physically. But he can almost taste her magic, and he can feel it soar so high, as if it has been imprisoned until now, waiting for a chance to break free. And when she turns her back to him and walks away, he knows he doesn't have to run after her. Her magic stays with him, embracing him, telling him that tomorrow they can start over again.

He goes back to sleep with incredible ease. There are no fields waiting for him there, no ruined cabin, no lost love. His sleep is easy, painless. All shadows shy away from the aura of light that surrounds him, guarding his sleep. He dreams of her, and she is beautiful. In the dream she offers him her hand, and he takes it, meaning to never let her go.

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A/N The angst portion is, at long last, winding down. Romance is kicking up, and so is the rating (if you're a smut fan- I hope the next few chapters will help make you happy). Obviously, things are not completely sorted out, but the two of them are making progress.

Also, I know the tenses have changed. I think that this way makes it feel more active, and lends the story the movement that it needs. If it annoys anyone too much- you're welcome to say so and I will go back to the former style.


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